


Mycroft's Birthday

by Small_Hobbit



Series: The Unexpected Family [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft is given the clock with the carefully selected photos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mycroft's Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Follows on from The Photograph of Choice: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1483237/chapters/3129661

Mycroft’s present had been wrapped and the cards had been made and written. The children still enjoyed making their own cards and while Lucy had used decoupage, building up a picture using wrapping paper featuring cup cakes, William had painstakingly drawn a tarantula, carefully annotating its body parts. Greg had to admit the children’s cards were probably more appropriate than the tasteful, but boring, countryside scene he had bought.

When they arrived at Mycroft’s house the two children charged in, yelling “Happy Birthday, Uncle Mycroft.”

Sherlock and Greg followed at a more sedate space, stopping to exchange a quick kiss before joining Mycroft and the children in the front room. As they came into the room they saw William looking through the cards which had been displayed on the mantelpiece and making deductions about the senders.

“Not everyone wishes to have their birthday wishes analysed, Will,” Greg said.

Mycroft waved a hand. “Don’t stop him. He’s doing very well, although he’s missed one important fact.”

Sherlock looked from his brother to the cards, “The one with the hideous flower arrangement on the front?”

When Mycroft nodded Sherlock strode over and picked up the card. William peered inside it, curious to see what he’d missed.

Meanwhile Greg gave Mycroft the cards they had brought. “I’m not sure what anyone would say about this,” he said.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Lucy replied. “Bought by someone who believes in following certain conventions. Although both names are included in the card it was written by Inspector Lestrade because he doesn’t trust Mr Sherlock Holmes not to write something inappropriate.”

Mycroft laughed as he opened Greg’s card. “Quite right! On the other hand these two beautiful homemade cards tell me much more about the senders, but there are no hidden messages.”

Once the cards had been placed in the centre of the mantelpiece, Mycroft was given his present. He felt round it carefully, but since the clock had been packed into its box, he had considerable difficulty in identifying what it was. He placed it carefully on a small side table, before standing and saying they should go through for tea.

The spread on the dining table would not have been out of place in one of the best London hotels, indeed Greg suspected that it might well have been provided by the Savoy. There was a wide variety of delicate sandwiches, a huge bowl of fruit and large selection of small cakes. The jelly and ice cream, although served in cut glass dishes, seemed slightly out of place, but Mycroft maintained no birthday tea was complete with it.

Once they had eaten all they wanted Mycroft asked Greg to collect the cake from the kitchen. Over the past few years it had become a tradition for Mycroft to order himself a cake that had been especially crafted. The first year there had been a dragon, but the design had become more intricate, with last year’s featuring a beach scene with golden yellow sand dunes and a calm blue sea complete with tiny boats. William and Lucy waited excitedly to see what their uncle had decided on for this year.

Greg carried the cake through and placed it on the table and William exclaimed, “It’s a fort!”

Sherlock looked closely at it. “Beau Geste,” he said. “It was one of your favourite books when you were growing up.”

“I can remember watching the film,” Greg said.

“With Gary Cooper as the lead?” Mycroft asked.

“Yes,” Greg nodded. “He was a good actor.”

“Before you two spend the next half hour discussing films,” Sherlock interrupted, “Perhaps you could cut the cake.”

“Of course,” Mycroft smiled. “Right, where do you suggest we make the first cut?”

After a short discussion it was agreed to cut down part of the wall, but to increase the defence at that point in case of sudden Tuareg attack.

“This is very nice chocolate cake,” William said.

“Mmm, can we have some more?” Lucy added.

“I think you’ve both eaten quite enough for the moment,” Greg replied, “And please don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“We can box up the north and west walls for you to take home,” Mycroft said. “Then you can have some more tomorrow. Do you think it’s time for me to open my birthday present?”

William and Lucy jumped off their chairs and grabbed Mycroft by a hand each before practically pulling him back into the front room. Mycroft picked up the box and slowly began to unwrap it, trying to deduce what he had been given by the weight and feel. He had begun to suspect it was a clock, but not wishing to disappoint the children said nothing until he had removed it from the box, at which point he began to laugh.

“Only you, Sherlock, only you,” Mycroft chuckled.

“Do you like it, Uncle Mycroft?” Lucy asked.

“When I told your Papa I needed a new clock for my study, because the old one no longer kept good time, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“Oh!” Lucy said quietly. Greg could feel her disappointment.

“I think I shall keep this one in my library and move the clock from there into the study.” Mycroft paused, and then added, “I have one further request, which I believe Will should be able to work out before you leave.”

William looked intently at his uncle, before unconsciously adopting the pose he had often seen Sherlock take, his hands steepled under his chin. Lucy giggled, but Greg put his finger to his lips to shush her.

Mycroft looked intently at each of the photos, commenting to himself as he identified the occasion each one had been taken. Finally he stood up, picked up the clock and said, “Shall we go and find somewhere suitable to keep this?”

The four of them followed Mycroft. The library, as Mycroft referred to it, was his private domain. Whilst few visitors entered the study, it was nevertheless tidy, organised and rather impersonal. The library was different. The walls, as would be expected, were covered in books; not merely copies of the major classics, but also shelves of art history, Mycroft’s own particular sphere of interest. There was also a wide selection of horror stories, many of which had zombie in their titles.

In addition, there were a number of display shelves interspersed amongst the book cases. On these stood what were clearly hand-made items, lovingly manufactured, at least half of which were unidentifiable. Mycroft was proudly displaying all the gifts he had received over the years from his niece and nephew.

On the shelf over the fire place there was a toy giraffe standing next to a giraffe adoption certificate. Mycroft placed his new clock next to the giraffe, passing the old clock to Sherlock to hold for the moment. Mycroft looked round the room appreciatively.

“As you know,” he said, “I come in here when I wish to forget the world and concentrate only on those close to me. I now have something extra to help me do so.” He turned to William. “Have you worked out what my request is yet?”

“I thought at first you wanted us to provide replacement photos,” William began thoughtfully, “but you already have several pictures on display, and Dad and Papa often send new ones. Then I realised you mentioned your request before you had really looked at the photos. You had decided where you were going to put the clock, which was next to your giraffe. There is a new giraffe house at the zoo, which has just been opened. I think you want to visit the giraffe house. Am I right?”

Mycroft smiled. “An excellent deduction. I would indeed like to see the new giraffe house. And since I do not wish to go by myself, are you happy to come with me?”

His smile grew wider as Lucy and William told him emphatically that they were.


End file.
